Fed Up
by Elven Apparition
Summary: Mrs. Lovett is fed up, and Sweeney Todd learns, first-hand, about her hidden, explosive emotions. One Shot. A little Sweenet.


A woman's delicate body was thrown against the cold, gray wall, an equally cold hand holding her there. Forcefully, she looked into a pair of black, pitless eyes, them equally fixed on her deep brown ones. Dull pain began to throb in her shoulder as she then looked away from the them. A smirk came onto her attackers face, amused at her action.

It always gave Sweeney a cheap thrill when he occasionally threatened Mrs. Nellie Lovett with one of his precious 'friends'. He loved that look on her face as it twisted from her usually friendly expression to a terrified one. To hold her pale body against the wall with the razor near her slender neck made him feel dominant, in charge. But he never actually harmed Mrs. Lovett. Oh no, not his accomplice in crime. Maybe a few nicks on the neck, a thin trail of blood every once in a while, but nothing too harmful.

Mrs. Lovett couldn't really say the same thing. Time after time, she'll just be working in her kitchen and accidentally say something that offended the barber, and the next thing she knew, she was slammed against the wall, a razor or meat cleaver inches away from her throat The first few times he had done it, he seemed serious and close to being infuriated. But now an arrogant smirk would dawn his features as he knew that he had her paralyzed, almost taking the concept of measuring her life in those little moments as a game. Just a simple, little sport.

Just _waiting_ for her to open that big mouth of hers.

Nonetheless, it pissed her off. She loved the man, but at these times, half that feeling seemed to evaporate completely, replacing it with terror and anger. Terror for her life, and anger for not keeping her actions more tightly secured (usually her mouth), and being helpless at his touch and his pitless orbs for eyes. How it made her melt, yet keep her so solid at the same time.

But not this time. No, this time, Mrs. Nellie Lovett was solid as the buildings of London themselves.

Sweeney began to notice this. His smirk faded as he studied her face. Where was that look of alarm, where her delicate brown eyes would widen in dread? The tense surge of her muscles when he pushed her shoulder against the hard surface of the wall? The once steady rhythm of her thumping heart now racing with mixed emotions? Even the small gap between her lips was tightly sealed with an unimpressed frown.

She was the first to speak.

"Are you quite done, Mr. Todd?" she asked blandly, cocking her head to the side. "It's almost the rush hour, and I have customers to serve."

Sweeney's almost jerked back in surprise, but a look of slight astonishment replaced it. "What did you say?" he sneered, once his composure was restored. "I believe I didn't hear you right, Mrs. Lovett." He pressed his blade closer to her.

"You can hear well enough, Mr. Todd, I need not repeat myself," Nellie replied, her voice getting more aggressive.

Sweeney snarled, his eyebrows furrowing in irritation. "Don't you talk to me that way, woman," Sweeney darkly responded. "We're finished when I say we are."

Nellie tucked a twirled red curl behind her ear, her expression of boredom unchanging, even as she put her hands on her hips. "Well then, are ye done? Those poor blokes you murder don't butcher and bake themselves!"

She then felt it. The gleaming tip of the razor sank into her flesh, drawing a line of blood down her neck. Normally, she would have flinched from the pain and arch her head back pathetically, just the way Sweeney imagined she would. But Nellie didn't change. Her face remained stoney as ever.

"That was quite unnecessary of you, Mr. T!" Mrs. Lovett shot out, her facing inching closely towards his. Sweeney was taken back, not expecting her outburst, but she continued to advance towards him and spoke, pushing his razor away and poking a finger into his chest.

"I'm fed up with you, I am! Day in and day out I work for you, to keep your little secret! But I can't so much as walk into _my own_ _shop _without you shoving that bloody razor in my face! Is that the thanks I get for returning them!?" Sweeney's eyes were widening with every jab in his ribcage, and soon found himself backed against the opposite wall. Nellie continued. "Well, love, if your such the dictator, then you can butcher and slice those stupid bastards with your damn 'friends' of yours, shove 'em and _LEAVE ME OUT OF IT_!"

A stunning silence was overwhelmed. Even the citizens of London seemed to freeze in the fury of Nellie Lovett.

Seconds ticked into minutes as the two accomplices stared at each other. It was quite amazing really. How a situation in your control can change for you in a matter of seconds. Especially at the ferocity of an angry woman. A woman such as Mrs. Lovett.

Her cheeks were as red as her hair, her eyes seething at his own. Sweeney, on the other hand, was almost drawn up the wall like a terrified cat. Although, it wasn't so much as fear he felt, as it was just pure shock. His arms were completely at his side, his mouth agape lightly, and his eyes wide as one of Mrs. Lovett's pies.

Mrs. Lovett then pulled herself away slowly, feeling a sense of relaxation rest inside her chest. That bottle anger labeled 'deceased' was opened, and with that, she felt relieved. Mrs. Lovett cleared her throat and smoothed her skirt a big as Sweeney then began to regain his lost composure himself and back down from the wall. They both were silent, their eyes averting.

"Ahem...well...now that you know how I feel, Mr. Todd," Mrs. Lovett began gently. "I'll be getting back to me pies now."

But before she could make it behind the counter, she felt a hand gently pull her wrist back. She jerked her head behind her to face Mr. Todd, who leaned in towards her. Her heart jumped as he then held her in place.

"What are you-" she started, then felt something soft on her neck. She looked down and saw that Mr. Todd was holding a white hankerchief over her small wound on her neck, and lightly wiping the drying blood away. He was once again poker-faced, but careful in his movements.

When he was done, Sweeney then shoved the hankerchief back into his pocket grudgingly, and released her wrist and began to stalk towards the exit.

Mrs. Lovett stood in surprise, her arms limp at her sides. Her gaze followed his movement as he opened to door to leave her. But then what he said next, made her blush in revelation, even if it was just a slight and sheepish whisper.

"I...I'm sorry...and...thank you, Mrs. Lovett."

And with that, Sweeney Todd was out of her sight. But Mrs. Lovett could have swore, much to her pleasant glance, the same tint of pink rise on his culpable, pale cheeks.

* * *

**Elven**: Oh man! I sure hope this didn't suck. Well, this was my first Sweeney Todd fic. Heh, I was listening to Angel of Mine by Monica while listening to this. Remember that song? Still a goodie. I hope you enjoyed and please review.

"An ex-girlfriend is the same as an okay movie. I liked it at the time, but I don't want to see it again."- _Demetri Martin: These are Jokes._


End file.
